


Finding Treasure in the Dark

by waywardrose



Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, College, Dom!Charlie, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, F/M, Hand Jobs, Impact Play, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Public teasing, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Semi-Public Fingering, Service Submission, Sex Toys, Submission, Under-negotiated Kink, Vaginal Fingering, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardrose/pseuds/waywardrose
Summary: "Yes!"she hissed in delight. "I toldProfessor Barberstraight out I didn't do that crap. Or let him boss me around. That's why I dropped him, you know. If he wants some Stepford toindulgehis impulses, he should go to Fetster or whatever."Your eyes went wide, and you shifted in your seat, faux-yawning and stretching your arms to cover the movement. You knew Charlie Barber.
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Comments: 24
Kudos: 82





	Finding Treasure in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ardent Bonds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/100613) by [Musyc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc). 



> A huge thank-you to Musyc, who graciously allowed me to remix her fic. Thank you so much!
> 
> Also, I've never been to UCLA. I've probably gotten the details wrong. I apologize in advance and hope it doesn't ruin the story.

The two women sitting at the bench near your table chattered like a pair of sparrows. They filled this end of the nearly empty courtyard with their gabbing. You sighed to yourself and looked to the congested—and very sunny—side of the courtyard. You had a feeling this quiet afternoon break, with a coffee and caramel scone from Bruin Buzz, wasn't going to relax you. Especially with those two going on about sex.

Even though everyone around was an adult, you were sure the people they were discussing would rather have had their preferences kept private. Then again...

You casually glanced at them as one of them squawked in delight.

Maybe they wouldn't.

You didn't know the women personally, though you recognized them from faculty meetings and around campus.

"Holy shit!" one of them laughed, her crimson hair flashed in the dappled shade when she leaned back. "Charlie's still trying that? I swear, he asked me for it at least a dozen times. I threatened to stuff a rolling pin up his ass to see if he liked it!"

You sipped at your coffee and silently agreed with her. Pushy boyfriends were the worst. You wondered who she was talking about. You tried to recall if you'd seen a particular man in either of their company. The man had to be someone on campus. It was the only explanation of how these two knew him and each other. You tried to place both women again, but came up short.

The other woman snorted with laughter and gestured with her coffee stirrer, flinging liquid on the concrete. _"Perfect!_ You were more patient than me, though. I only let him ask for it once before I told him it wasn't going to happen. He should've counted himself lucky I'd go down on him with that monster in his pants! Much less anything else, especially since he's got that habit of—"

_"Grabbing your haa~ir!"_ both women giggled in unison.

The redhead leaned closer to the other. "Did he ever try tying you to the headboard?"

You froze and cradled the warm paper cup in both hands. You shouldn't be listening to this, shouldn't be eavesdropping, shouldn't be the slightest bit intrigued by the direction of their conversation.

On the other hand, it was very good coffee and deserved to be savored. It wasn't like you were intrigued by this man's proclivities. Especially when they sounded like a tendency towards dominance. It wasn't like you were interested in that _at all._ It was the coffee and the scone and the cheery sunshine that kept you glued to your seat.

The other woman cackled and nodded, slapping her own knee. _"Yes!"_ she hissed in delight. "I told _Professor Barber_ straight out I didn't do that crap. Or let him boss me around. That's why I dropped him, you know. If he wants some Stepford to _indulge_ his impulses, he should go to Fetster or whatever." She huffed. "At least he was smart enough to keep that stuff to the bedroom."

Your eyes went wide, and you shifted in your seat, faux-yawning and stretching your arms to cover the movement. You knew Charlie Barber. You'd helped him settle in his office and introduced him to the back-of-house crew at REDCAT. He'd been so appreciative and brimming with ideas. His enthusiasm was infectious.

You broke off a corner of your scone, popped it in your mouth, and chewed with determination. He was also handsome and courteous, opening doors and carrying heavy items for you. During a break while setting up his office, he'd insisted you sit in the only available chair in his office and bought you a soda. That was more than any professor had ever offered you.

At the late lunch you'd had with him, he showed you a picture of his son, Henry, who was adorable. Charlie admitted then he was divorced, but that he and his ex got along very well. They both loved Henry and made things work for everyone's sake.

That had surprised you. Most of the divorced couples you knew wanted their ex's bloody head on a pike.

You crossed your ankles in front of you and ate another piece of scone. Keep talking, you silently demanded the women. _Talk more about Charlie. Say everything._ You wanted to hear everything, how Charlie kissed, what he liked, because it was starting to sound as if you and he liked the same things.

Those things, you'd discovered, were hard to find, too. None of your hints had ever been picked up by significant others. Or suggestions. Or outright requests. Yes, you knew about Fetster, but the people there hadn't felt right.

Maybe your hunch was wrong, and maybe it was wrong to even consider, but you couldn't stop yourself from picturing it. Picturing him. Crisp button-up, neat sport jacket, his dark hair shining in the intimate glow of some nondescript bedroom, commanding you to crawl to him.

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it. I didn't mind at first. It was kinda exciting, right? He'd order me to keep my hands still or demand that I…" Her voice lowered as she said, "That I touch myself for him?" The other woman nodded, humming in agreement, and she continued. "But then he just got odd. 'On your knees, Jen.' 'Strip and wait for me, Jen.'"

You bit your bottom lip and attempted to keep your wriggling to a minimum. You replayed Charlie's statements in your head, replacing Jen's name with your own. His deep voice purred through your mind. You could hear those orders, picture his eyes going darker. You knew you were getting wet.

"Did he ever want to come on your face?" one of them asked.

You stifled a groan. That was it. You put your half-eaten scone in the takeaway bag and left the courtyard with your face blazing.

You didn't stop on your way home from work. You locked the door to your apartment, tossed your bag on the coffee table, and scurried into the bedroom. You sprawled across your rumpled bed, unzipped the fly of your slacks, and shoved your hand into your underwear.

With eyes closed, you imagined Charlie crooning in your ear, his lips tickling the shell. His big hands would cup your breasts, fingers rolling and tugging your nipples. _Open your mouth,_ he'd say, and his hot cock would push between your lips.

You circled your slick clit hard. There was no finesse. You needed to come. Your underwear was taut over your hand. Your hips arched off the bed. Sweat broke out at your hairline and above your lip as you strained for orgasm.

It was inappropriate, but impossible not to think about, and as soon as you pictured Charlie with his hands locked in your hair, his cheeks pink with satisfaction, and his spend dripping from your lips, you came with an unrepentant moan.

* * *

You strode through the hallways of Macgowan Hall, a padfolio tucked against your chest. You tried to have the air of professionalism. Charlie's office, with its solid door and paper nameplate, was tucked away at the back of the building. You were grateful for that. The fewer witnesses if this blew up in your face, the better. You knocked on the door with your heart fluttering in your chest.

Charlie's voice sounded distracted, yet impatient as he said, "No office hours today."

You opened the door anyway and peeked in.

_"I said—"_ He looked up from the rudimentary theater model on his desk and smiled. "Oh, it's you."

"I— I'm sorry for interrupting." You drew yourself up and gave him a grin. "I have an idea for you."

He frowned. "I didn't know you were part of the theater school."

"I'm not, but I have a proposition."

"Well, I can't approve anything," he said, his voice easily carrying across the room. "Maybe you can bring it up at the next meeting? It's next week, I think? You can talk to the department secretary…"

"No," you said and laid a hand against the doorjamb. "No, this is a personal proposition."

"Personal?"

You took a deep breath, walked into his office, and closed the door behind yourself. "I overheard _Jen_ and another one of your ex-girlfriends talking yesterday. They were discussing your... _preferences."_ You inched your way to his desk. "I wanted to… talk? About that."

"No, absolutely not," he snapped, harsh and rough, and stood. "I need this job. I'll talk to them."

You hugged your padfolio, eyes widening at his tone. "No, no, there's no need. I just..."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry you heard all that." He gave you a wide berth as he went to the door and opened it. "That was impolite of them. I'll talk to them, I promise."

A thought came to you, and you nodded, thinking you understood why he wanted you to leave. The university had a code of conduct. He probably thought you were threatening to report him for sexual misconduct because he'd dated one or two faculty members.

Which was ridiculous—and not against the code of conduct, anyway. Even though you were sure he wouldn't want the dean to know he liked to tie his girlfriends to his bed.

"I'm not done," you said, fully turning to him. "And I think you should close that door because someone might walk by. And do you really want—"

He deliberately closed the door in reply. His expression was stony and in sharp contrast to the artistic openness of his office. He studied you, his dark eyes wary and shoulders tense.

"Whatever you're talking about, I'm going to deny it."

You kept your voice soft. "No, you're not. I heard everything your exes said. I know what they were talking about. I..." You raised your chin and met his eyes. "I can give you what they couldn't. Voluntarily, willingly... happily."

He put his hands on his hips. "Is this some sort of prank?"

You stomped a foot. "This isn't a prank, Charlie Barber. I heard them. You like to dominate your partners. You like to give commands. I can give that to you."

_I want you to take it from me._

"You can leave my office and never mention this again." A muscle in his cheek jumped as he clenched his jaw. "This isn't funny."

"My safeword is 'geisha'," you stated. He froze, eyes locked on you. "I like to be restrained, spanked, and ordered. I will surrender total control of my body to you and allow you to use me however you want. I will do it with a smile and an orgasm. Several—if you permit it."

He stared in silence for what felt like an eternity, and your courage started to wane. Maybe you had misunderstood or misjudged. You didn't think there was another Charlie Barber on campus. You'd assumed their Charlie was your Charlie.

You dropped your gaze to the floor as your face heated. _Shit._ This had been a mistake. You couldn't believe you'd been so foolish. You'd put yourself out there, told him something so personal, and just made a very good case for a sexual-harassment suit.

Charlie's knuckle tilted your face up. You jerked, because you hadn't heard him move, and dropped your padfolio. It knocked against the side of your calf before flopping to the floor. He examined your eyes, as if looking for sincerity. You opened your mouth, but he shook his head.

He held your waist, nudged your padfolio away, and walked you backwards. He pushed you against the closest bare wall, never taking his eyes off yours. You swallowed a gasp when he pinned you in place with his hips.

He moved slowly, still watching your face. He slid his hands down your hips until he could grasp your wrists and then pulled your arms over your head. Your heart raced as he positioned you.

You suspected he was testing you, seeing if you were genuine with your offer. Each touch of his hands and the pressure of his body against yours only made you more willing.

He crossed your wrists over your head, released you, and murmured, "Don't move."

You bit your bottom lip as he dragged his hands down your sides. He gripped your skirt and gathered it at your hips before nudging his knee between yours. You spread your legs as his thigh rose until it was pressed against the crotch of your underwear.

You whimpered. His eyes flashed, then darkened as he looked you over.

A grin spread across his attractive features, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear: "I won't be gentle. No making love."

You shivered at his dark tone. Your stomach swooped as your cunt throbbed. Wetness pooled between your legs, heavy and fresh.

He said, "I'm not here to give you some little adventure and a pat on the ass. I'll use you and treat you as my own source of pleasure. I'll take you however I want, and you'll thank me for it."

You nodded with a groan, unable to stop yourself. Your cunt pulsed as his words made you tremble. He made a pleased sound deep in his chest and pulled away. His navy trousers were dark at the thigh, where he'd pressed against your soaked underwear.

He sank into his desk chair and looked at you. You held your position, arms locked overhead, legs wide, skirt inching down your legs. You knew if he gave the command, you'd drop to your knees, crawl across the office, and suck his cock.

A part of you wished he would.

Charlie took a deep breath and opened a drawer in his desk. He pulled out a business card, wrote something on the back, and set it at the far corner of his desk.

"Tomorrow night, nine o'clock. Key's under the mat. You can go."

* * *

You steeled yourself and unlocked his apartment door. A lamp by the sofa illuminated the living room. There was framed art on the builder-white walls and houseplants softening the corners of the room. On the glass-top coffee table was a folded sheet of notebook paper with your name on it.

It read:

> I might be late. You can have whatever's in the fridge.
> 
> Instructions for tonight:
> 
> Strip completely
> 
> Leave your clothes and purse in the bathroom
> 
> Wait for me on the couch
> 
> Stay in the living room

You left the key on the coffee table, tucked the note in your purse, and did as it instructed. Though, you did sneak a look in the open bedroom. A made bed dominated the room. There was a dust-free ficus or some kind of palm in the corner. You were surprised to see two nightstands, a matching dresser, and one of those big Brooklyn Bridge prints from IKEA on the far wall.

The apartment wasn't too overly cool, so being nude was comfortable. You poured yourself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge before sitting on the couch. That was when you noticed there was no television—not that you were going to tune into _Real Housewives_ or anything.

You arranged yourself on the sofa, took a sip of cold water, and waited.

The front door opened at five minutes to ten. Charlie walked in, sleeves of his dove-gray shirt rolled to the elbows, with a handful of mail. He marched past without looking at you, dropped the mail on the dining table, and went to the lit kitchen. The faucet ran for a minute, water splashed in the sink. After a moment, the refrigerator opened and closed, then a drawer, then the _pssht_ of a beer bottle being opened.

He carried a brown beer bottle to the dining table and took the seat facing the kitchen. He sipped at his beer and set the bottle on one of the placemats before using a letter opener on the various envelopes.

You watched him and waited for him to acknowledge you. He sorted through the mail as if you weren't there. He took another drink and unfolded a credit-card statement.

You cleared your throat. "Charlie?"

He folded the statement, placed it on the "keep" pile, then checked his watch.

He sounded amused when he said, "Seven minutes." He unlatched the watch and set it to the side. "I wondered how long you'd hold out."

He leaned in his chair, cradling the bottle in his big hand. He looked you over, and you began to straighten.

He held up a hand. "Don't. Stay there. I want to look at you."

Your heart sped up as you relaxed onto the sofa. His gaze was steady. Heat infused your cheeks, and you had to look away. The frank appreciation in his eyes was flattering, but you weren't sure he'd be looking at you like that for long.

The bottle clunked on the table. You snuck a glance to see him still watching. That heat in your cheeks spread, moving down your chest. Despite your uncertainty, your nipples hardened.

"In case no one's said this lately, you're beautiful."

Your nipples hardened even more.

Though he hadn't told you not to speak, you wouldn't be able to. Your mouth was dry. All through the wait, you'd wondered how it would feel to submit to him, to give yourself over to him, to feel his hands on you. You were beginning to understand now, and it was perfect.

Charlie crooked a finger at you, then pointed to the table. "Here."

You swallowed and stood. Your uncertainty dissipated as he watched. It was as though he couldn't take his eyes off you. You crossed the room and stood in front of him next to the table. His eyes darkened, and he nodded in approval.

He tapped the table with a finger. "Sit."

You sat on the edge of the table, thighs pressed together. He shook his head with a _tsk_ and set his beer aside. He tapped on the inside of your knee, and you needed no further instruction. You wriggled back on the table and spread your thighs.

He smiled, and your heart soared at pleasing him. He leaned forward with his hands on your thighs. The warmth from his palms spread through your body. You watched his eyes flicker over your body, from your nipples to your neatly trimmed pubic hair.

"Really beautiful," he said and got to his feet.

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling yourself glow under his praise. You'd neatened and cleansed every inch of your body for this. You didn't want anything to stop him from having anything he wanted from you. "What would you like me to do for you, Charlie?"

"Be patient," he said with a smile. "And make a decision."

You blinked at him, confused. He stroked your thighs and paused with his hands resting on your knees.

"I want to fulfill a fantasy of mine."

"About me?"

He nodded. "If you don't like it, tell me. You can say no to anything. I won't push you past a limit." He looked into your eyes. "Do you trust me?"

You stared at him, trying to concentrate on his question and not on the flecks of gold in his eyes, or the bready scent of the beer on his breath, or the weight of his hands on your skin. It was difficult to think with his broad body between your knees and the fabric of his trousers brushing your inner thighs.

You nodded, and he moved in to whisper in your ear. He told you what he was going to do, how he was going to make you scream and then moan. Your breath caught at each dark promise. Your body heated anew.

"Yes," you whimpered, wanting it all. "Yes, yes, do it."

His fingers twisted in your hair as you agreed to his every desire. He tightened his grip and pulled your head back. You held onto the edge of the table as he finally kissed you. It was what you'd imagined: claiming and passionate. He tilted his head and kissed your mouth open. His clever tongue swept over yours, and you felt it all the way down your body.

One of his hands trailed down your neck and chest to stop at your heart. You moaned into the kiss and arched your back, trying to push your breast into his palm.

He bit your bottom lip and gave your hair a tug. You jerked and groaned, and he chuckled. The dark sound rolled through you.

"No. Behave."

You trembled at the soft command and stilled. His tight grip and order to behave made you quiver. It was like he'd read your mind. You were halfway to orgasm already.

He rewarded you by gently circling your nipples with both hands. You sighed in pleasure and relaxed.

Once your guard was down, he stunned you with sharp pinches to both nipples. You gasped, eyes going wide, but he didn't let up. He squeezed harder, watching you with an intenseness that was intimidating. Your breath shook as his pinch intensified. It hurt and hurt and hurt until it transformed into sublime pleasure, and you writhed.

"Perfect," he murmured.

He released your nipples. Blood rushed back, and that hurt in a new, delicious way, and you cried out. He maneuvered you off the table and spun you to face it.

"Down," he ordered as he pushed between your shoulders.

You bit back a moan and bent forward. Your face only inches from a wet smear on the wood. You thought it from his beer until you took a breath: salt and musk. Your face flared hot as you realized it had come from your dripping cunt.

He stood behind you, warm hands roaming your back. He dragged one finger down the cleft of your ass.

"Spread yourself for me."

You froze as your mind jumped from one possibility to the next. He slapped your ass when you didn't comply immediately. Your knees buckled as the handprint burned, and you leaned hard on the table. You gripped both cheeks of your ass and pulled yourself open to display your pussy. You were so open and vulnerable. He could do anything to you.

His groan sent a frisson of pride through you.

His voice was thick when he said, "Wider—as far as you can."

Your teeth sunk into the little hurt on your lip from Charlie's bite. You further pulled yourself open and pushed up on your toes to better present yourself.

He groaned again and slid his hand down your dripping slit. He pushed two meaty fingers inside your cunt and hummed in approval.

"Such a good girl, so wet for me."

You rocked back on his fingers a few times before he drew out. He slicked up the cleft between your buttocks and probed your ass, slipping a fingertip inside. Your breath stuttered as he pulled out. While you were no stranger to anal, it had been a while. You realized you craved it from him.

"Charlie," you whispered.

_"Patience."_

You keened softly in protest and trembled at his commanding tone. He tapped your hands, indicating you could let go, and took your wrists. He crossed your wrists at the small of your back and held them in one big hand. Then he leaned against your ass, his trousers soft on your skin. The hot ridge of his cock rode between your buttocks. You moved against him, wondering what it looked like, how it tasted, how it would feel buried deep inside you.

"Don't move," he said and kissed down your spine, stepping away as he went.

From behind you came the rustle of fabric, the soft clink of metal. He had removed his belt. You breathed deep, bracing yourself for the pain. Leather whistled through the air, and you shrieked as the belt cracked across your ass like electricity. You struggled on your toes as blow after stinging blow relentlessly fell.

He varied the speed, switched the intervals between swings, and you couldn't guess when the next lash would come. Your ass burned, flames licked under your skin with each strike. You ground your hips against the table, desperate for friction, pressure, _anything_ against your clit.

He paused and slapped your ass with an open palm. You cried out at the change of sensation.

He hummed. "So hot."

He drove his fingers into your cunt, pumping them. You could barely hold your arms in position anymore. It was too much. Wetness squelched as he fingered you, your inner thighs wet and sticky. You struggled for air, so close to coming that you could barely breathe. You writhed on his fingers.

His fingers stilled. You mewled with frustration. He leaned over you, his hand on the table beside your face. The length of his belt was wrapped around his fist. On impulse, you kissed the warm leather. He growled softly. The buttons of his shirt pressed into your back.

He nipped the curve of your ear. "Do you want to come?"

You sobbed, _"Yes!_ Yes, please, Charlie. _Please_ let me come. _Please_ make me come."

"Will you come back tomorrow night?"

"Yes, Charlie, of course. _Please."_

"Good." He shifted, his lips brushed between your shoulder blades. "Then you've earned a reward."

He settled his hand over your wrists, and the belt draped over your heated, sensitive ass. He pumped his fingers in your juicy cunt. Twisting his fingers inside you, he found your g-spot and made you keen with each rub. You bucked against the weight of him holding you in place.

He massaged harder and faster, encouraging you with answering noises. He kept going until everything went blurry. You drove your hips against the table and _screamed._ Your cunt pulsed, gripping and clenching on his fingers. You quivered as orgasm ripped through you, forcing any coherent thought from your mind. All you could focus on was him.

When you collapsed on the table, panting and sweating and mind blank, he released your wrists. You groaned, feeling like a wrung-out dishrag, even as your cunt kept pulsing. Your thighs were drenched. Your arms flopped onto the table, and you rested your cheek on the table. 

Charlie settled the throw from the sofa over you and pressed a kiss to your hair. "You did very well. Such a good girl. I think we can do better tomorrow, though." He kissed your cheek and murmured, "Be ready for anything."

* * *

"You okay?" Lizzy asked.

You looked up from your lunch, fork dangling between your fingers. Every muscle felt loose. Your entire body was languid like you'd come back from a massage. You straightened in your chair and stifled a whimper when the motion irritated the sting of your ass.

Well, every muscle was loose except those.

Charlie's belt had left welts on your flesh. Every time you moved, you were reminded of what he'd done to you the night before. Thinking about it made your heart thud and hips swivel. It had been a bad decision to wear slacks.

You forced your attention back to Lizzy, your friend, co-worker, and more often than not, lunch date.

_"Hm?_ Oh yeah. I'm fine."

She put her spoon on her plate. The clink of metal reminded you of the sound Charlie's belt had made as he unbuckled it. You squirmed. The motion made your ass throb, and you yelped. 

You covered your face with a hand when she stared. "No, okay. _No,_ I'm not fine."

You splayed your hands on either side of your tray and refused to meet her eyes. "Have you ever done something you know you shouldn't, but you wanted it so much that even though it's a bad idea, you did it anyway?"

Lizzy watched you, cafeteria mug halfway to her lips. "Sounds like something beyond stealing office supplies." She took a sip of her tea, set the mug down, and leaned in her chair with a grin. "What's his name?"

You sputtered, knowing your face must've given you away. You wanted to sprint from the cafeteria, but that would only confirm Lizzy's suspicions. If you weren't going to do that, you might as well sit comfortably.

At least, as comfortably as you could with Charlie's welts still stinging your ass.

"No names," you began and found a comfortable position. "But, um... But yeah, it's a guy. I-I—" You closed your eyes and tried not to imagine the heat of Charlie's breath in your ear as he growled orders. "I got something last night that I've wanted for a long time, but now I think I shouldn't have."

Lizzy twisted her bracelet around her wrist. "Were you drunk?"

"No."

"Is he half your age?"

You scrunched your nose. "No."

"Twice it?"

"No."

She ticked off her fingers. "Is he married, engaged, or with someone else?"

"No."

"Then what's the problem?"

You blinked. "Well... It's just that—" That he's _Charlie Barber_ , and you're _you._ You'd never live it down if anyone found out you wanted the dilfiest professor on campus to fuck you into unconsciousness. Or that you'd gotten a belting from him.

"Was he good?"

You couldn't stop the slow, satisfied smile from spreading across your face.

Lizzy whistled. "Damn, any man that puts _that_ smile on your face is a man you should keep. Yup, obviously a man you should keep doing. Often. Go forth, get laid, keep smiling like that."

* * *

You pressed the buzzer on Charlie's apartment door and tried not to fidget as you waited. The fabric of your underwear rubbed against the welts. After your shower this evening, you'd picked the softest pair you owned. Along with the lightest skirt in your wardrobe, a breezy thing your mother had given you on your last birthday.

But even that was painful—amazing and arousing—but painful.

"It's open," he called.

You stepped into the apartment and waited in the living room. Charlie sat at the dining table again, sleeves rolled and empty glass at his elbow, as he typed on his laptop. You watched the muscles of his forearms work. He looked intense, even a little grouchy. However, everyone said he was pleasant and easy to work with, but he had his opinions. He had a firm hand.

You shifted on your feet, and the welts flared to life. He certainly did have a firm hand. You hoped he'd use that firm hand on you again. Spanking your ass or thighs, pumping into your cunt, pinching your nipples? _Yes, please._

You swallowed a groan.

The soft clack of the keyboard stopped, and he looked at you. "Come here."

You didn't run, but it was close.

He pointed to the floor beside his chair. "Kneel."

You shivered and dropped to your knees. It hurt when you settled on your heels, but it was easy to ignore when he was near.

Charlie pushed back from the table and turned in the chair to face you. He unzipped his trousers and maneuvered his half-hard cock out. You bit your lip, because it was as big as you'd hoped. He stroked the heavy length of it and held it, the flushed head aimed at your mouth.

"Suck."

You quaked, glad you were already on your knees. You wet your lips as you knee-walked between his thighs. You leaned forward as you tucked your hair behind your ears. His fingers met yours to help before taking a fistful of hair at the back of your head. He guided you down and rubbed the head of his growing erection on your cheeks, smearing pre-come across your face. You groaned and opened your mouth wide.

He shoved his cock into your waiting mouth. You struggled to swallow as he pushed. Your tongue was pinned in place by the weight of his shaft. You hadn't expected him to go that deep so quickly, and for a moment you forgot to breathe.

You looked up at his face to see the pleasure in his eyes. It calmed you like nothing else. You braced yourself on his firm thighs, moved back just enough to take a slow breath through your nose, and relaxed your jaw.

He smiled. "Now suck. Be a good girl and make me come."

The thick cock in your mouth muffled your moan, but you knew he heard it. You hoped he heard your enjoyment, too. This was something you relished.

His grip on your hair relaxed. Now it felt as if he was simply holding it for you. You drew back, lips caressing his shaft, until you came to the flared head. You rubbed the tip of your tongue against his frenulum. He gave a soft hiss, and you settled with a wriggle.

You wondered what he would sound like as he came. Would he talk and moan? Would he groan your name?

Charlie guided with groaned demands—pressure here, hold there—and rewarded every effort with praise.

"So sweet, so good for me."

You wanted to give back, take every nice thing he said, grow it, and offer it to him. You twisted your head as you worked his cock with tongue and lips. He tasted so good. His shaft throbbed, and you glanced up to see his head tipped back. His mouth was open in a silent moan. His adam's apple bobbed.

You swallowed him down until his groomed pubic hair prickled your lips and the teeth of his trouser zipper scraped your cheeks. You hummed and dragged your thumbs over the swell of his balls.

_"Fuck,"_ he bit out and yanked you back by the hair.

His free hand wrapped around his cock and pumped, the head dark with blood. With a few strokes, his hips jerked, and he groaned. The first pulse of come hit your cheek. You opened your mouth and rested your tongue on your bottom lip.

You closed your eyes as his orgasm kept going. Come splattered your cheek again, your chin, the corner of your mouth.

With a long groan, he spilled onto your tongue in a little dribble. The astringent, salty taste coated your tongue. As you swallowed, you watched him slump in his chair. His fingers were loose in your hair.

You swiped the come from your lips with your tongue and dipped in to lick his cock clean. He petted your hair as his breathing calmed.

After a few quiet minutes, he tucked his cock away and pushed his chair back. He told you to stay before heading to the kitchen.

Your face itched from the come drying, but Charlie hadn't said you could wipe it off. You fisted your skirt to distract yourself as you watched from between the legs of the table the lower half of his body move around the kitchen.

The faucet turned on and off, and he came back to the dining table with a damp paper towel. He perched on the edge of his chair, his eyes dark again as he looked at you. The unmistakable lust in them made you shiver.

"You look good like this," he said.

It was easy to ignore the welts on your ass and the come on your cheek as you lost yourself in his eyes.

You whispered, "Thank you."

He leaned forward and steadied your face with a hand under your chin. With a gentleness you hadn't expected, he cleaned the strings of come off your face. The paper towel was warm and surprisingly smooth. You closed your eyes, enjoying his soft touch.

"That's one," he murmured when he finished. He set the paper towel on a placemat, dragged his damp palm down his thigh. "Two more to go."

He helped you to your feet and rested his hands on your hips. Mouth was one, then. You bit your lip and thought of climbing onto his lap. But he hadn't given you permission. Pussy and ass were two more, you realized. You wondered if he didn't plan on stopping at that orgasm. You hoped he didn't.

Desperately hoped.

You placed your hands on his broad shoulders and asked, "What else do you plan to do with me tonight?" You aimed for sultry, but didn't know if you hit.

Charlie smiled, looking delighted. He smoothed both hands to your ass to palm at each cheek. The fabric of your skirt and underwear did nothing to shield your welts. His touch rasped like sandpaper. You whimpered and clutched at his shoulders.

He gave your ass a little squeeze, and the sting zinged between your legs. "Unfortunately, there's an early department meeting, so what I plan to do is send you home."

You opened your mouth to protest, but Charlie pulled you in and arched up to catch your lips in a kiss. His tongue slid against yours in that heady way of his. You gripped his shirt, forgetting what you were going to say.

You almost climbed onto his lap, but he released you so suddenly, you staggered.

"Go home," Charlie said softly, but firmly. "Go home and finger yourself. Think about me, touching you. Taking you."

He cupped the side of your face and smiled again, a touch of possessiveness in the curl of his lips. You shivered at the sight.

He murmured, "Think about me fucking you and edge yourself. You are not allowed to come." He dragged a thumb over your lips. "Your next orgasm belongs to me."

* * *

An email popped in your inbox after lunch.

> If you're available, I have a personal proposition to discuss. I think you'll find it compelling.
> 
> -
> 
> Charlie Barber
> 
> Professor-in-Residence
> 
> UCLA | School of Theater, Film & Television
> 
> 245 Charles E. Young Drive E
> 
> Los Angeles, CA 90095
> 
> Office (310) 825-5761
> 
> Mobile (213) 559-4841 

You checked your schedule with shaking hands, finding it open until a meeting at three. With your heart thudding in your chest, you went to Macgowan Hall.

The door to his office was open. Bright voices spilled into the hallway. You guessed his office had just been invaded by students. A look in confirmed your suspicions. An assorted group of students occupied the two guest chairs, corner of his desk, and the deep window ledge. They all laughed as Charlie, who stood behind his desk, gesticulated with a mini French flag in his hand.

You knocked on the door jamb. "You wanted to see me, Professor Barber?"

Charlie turned to the door in surprise, but he beamed when he saw you.

"Yeah, please come in," he replied and motioned for the students to pack up.

You waited in the hall and stepped to the side to let the students file past. A few gave you grins, which you returned. Charlie brought up the rear and reminded them to be ready for Friday.

Once it was just you and him, he pulled you by the wrist into his office. The door closed behind you with a heavy clank, and he pushed you against it with his firm body.

"Did you follow my orders?" He nuzzled under the hinge of your jaw. "Or did you disobey me?" He kissed your neck. "Did you come last night?"

You gasped and pressed your hands against the door. "No," you said, wanting to touch him so badly, but he hadn't given you permission. "No. I obeyed you, promise. I wanted to, but I didn't. I stopped, I swear."

"I think I'll have to check."

He gathered your skirt until his fingers were brushing along your thighs. He shimmied one hand between your legs and rubbed against the damp cotton of your underwear. It stuck at your wet slit—like it had been doing all day.

You gasped, "Professor!" as your hips lurched forward.

You felt him laugh as a gust of breath on your neck. Then he bit. You whimpered and froze.

As he pressed your underwear into your slit, he purred, "I wouldn't be able to tell from this."

He straightened and brought his fingers to his mouth to lick. His pink tongue moved like sin. You wanted it between your legs.

"Very nice," he commented before slipping his hand inside your underwear.

He met your gaze as two fingers slid between your drenched folds. You bit your lip and tried to keep still. He pushed his middle finger in your cunt, teasing with little pulses.

"So lush."

He withdrew his hand from your underwear and brought his anointed finger to your lips.

"Open."

You opened your mouth and sucked his finger. Your taste was familiar enough, but it was different pulling it off his skin. You liked the way he stared at you as you cleaned him. He appeared darkly pleased, and you thought he must be thinking of how you looked on your knees last night.

Once he deemed you finished, he braced himself with hands on either side of your shoulders.

"Show me your tits."

Anxiety surged, but you jumped to obey. You didn't want anyone else to see you like this, but you had to show some trust. As long as his office door stayed closed, you were willing to indulge him.

You watched him as you blindly unbuttoned your shirt and then spread it once you reached the waistband of your skirt. His pupils dilated at the sight of your bra. It wasn't anything special, just a smooth t-shirt bra. If you'd known this morning you'd be showing him your underwear, you would've chosen something prettier.

With a finger, he traced the edge of one cup before molding his hand under your breast. Your nipples pearled even with his muted touch.

He softly said, "Beautiful."

"I-I can't take this off," you said just as softly. "Not, uh, not without taking off my shirt."

"That's okay." He nodded and put his hand back on the door. "Give me your panties."

Your breath caught, thinking of him keeping them in his desk as a reminder of you. You reached under your skirt and pulled them down until you could wriggle them down. They dropped to your ankles, and you stepped a foot out before kicking the other leg up.

Just like your bra, your underwear wasn't anything special. You wouldn't have guessed that by the sound he made, though.

As he took your underwear, he said, "Very cute."

Maybe they were with their lace edging and polka-dot pattern. They were soft on your healing welts. He brought them to his nose for a deep inhale. His eyes closed in rapture, and you felt yourself getting wetter.

He shoved your underwear into his pocket and pushed away from the door. Your skirt fell back into place as he plopped onto one of the armless guest chairs. He glanced at your lower half, his disappointment obvious. You gathered your skirt with both hands to reveal your thighs. He looked pleased and angled to you in the chair.

"Come here."

As you approached, he opened his knees for you to stand between them. He bent and kissed the bridge of fabric between the cups of your bra. You arched to him, but stopped when one warm hand crept up your inner thigh.

He whispered, "Spread 'em."

You adjusted your stance, and his fingers went immediately to your pussy. His thumb rubbed at your clit, sending tight jolts of pleasure through your belly, and a thick finger pushed deep inside you. It took all your willpower not to let go of your skirt.

You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning and tried not to think of the unlocked door behind you. Anyone could come in to see you with your shirt undone and Charlie knuckle-deep inside you. Your heart raced for an entirely different reason.

When you met his gaze, he said, "You're not going to safeword out, are you?"

You shook your head. You didn't want to disappoint him. The blush on his cheeks, the way his eyes glowed, and fuck, the hot throb of your cunt overruled reason. You'd brought yourself to the edge of orgasm six times last night. You'd thought of his kisses, the steel in his voice, his hands on you.

Now they were doing what you'd imagined.

"No, as long as the door stays shut," you replied.

You looked down his torso to see his trousers tented with his erection. He desired you. You'd take anything if he kept touching you.

"Trust me. I'm not sharing this view with anyone."

He gentled his fingers from between your legs and guided you to sit across his lap. Once seated, he reached inside your shirt to fondle your breasts. He pushed a bra cup down to circle a nipple. You whimpered and leaned against his chest, feeling the ridge of his cock on your hip.

He pinched your nipple, and you keened and held onto him. The little hurt had your hips squirming and cunt pulsating.

He nosed your shirt out of the way and kissed the base of your throat.

"Though if I did, they'd all want you. They'd want to be the one you've given yourself to. Because you have given yourself to me, haven't you?"

You nodded.

"Are you mine?"

Again, you nodded. "Yes, all yours." You panted. "Just yours."

"That's my good girl," he said against your neck and eased off your nipple.

He snaked a hand under your skirt to tease your labia.

"How do you touch yourself?" he asked. "What do you do?"

You blinked in surprise at having to give an answer. "I-I, uh, I just, you know, touch myself? Nothing special."

A finger dipped into your slit to stroke your clit.

"That's not true. We all have a personal technique."

You focused on his words and not the way his finger was making your cunt clench.

"Do you do it with the shower head? Or get this sweet—" He pressed hard against your clit, making you lowly moan. "—pussy under the tub faucet before running a bath? Lie across your bed in the dark? Or do you not bother to undress before shoving your hand down your panties?"

He slowly circled your clit as his voice rumbled. "Do you bite back your moans? Do you fight to keep quiet because of the neighbors?"

You pressed your forehead against his fragrant hair and whimpered because your orgasm was building. He didn't seem to be as interested in your answers as much as your reactions, anyway.

With a roll of his hips, he asked, "Is it just your hands? Do you have toys? A nice, thick dildo to push inside? Do you fuck yourself with it?" He purred, "Did you wish it was me?"

"Yes!" You spread your thighs and fisted his shirt. "I wanted it to be you. I want to come on your cock— Please, Professor!"

You writhed on his lap when his hand went still. The welts on your ass smarted. The movement stimulated your clit, though, and you hoped, his dick. You wanted to undo the zipper of his trousers, get his dick out, and slide onto it. You knew he'd feel better than any silicone you'd ever had. He'd be so hot and thick and sticky with precome

You whined for him, but he cuffed your ass with his free hand. It was cushioned by your rucked-up skirt, but it hardly mattered. It still irritated the welts and added a layer of sensation. Your cunt throbbed.

He said, "No, behave."

"Please, Professor," you whispered. "I want to come."

Sounding pleased, he replied, "I bet you do." He laughed when you wiggled from frustration in his lap.

"Please, Charlie!"

"No."

He dragged his hand from between your legs, leaving a trail of slick down your inner thigh. Your whole body thrummed in want. Your mouth opened in protest, because neither of you had come.

It was so unfair. You'd done everything he wanted. Some bratty part of you wanted to finger yourself in front of him and scream his name when you came just to show him how much you needed him.

He patted your knee. "Get dressed and get back to work." He let his arms fall to the side so you could maneuver off his lap. "You will wait for permission to come."

Your throat closed from defeat. Everything ached, from your nipples to your cunt. And you were wetter than ever, more aroused than ever, because _he_ controlled your pleasure. He'd asked you to trust him, and you did. But you also wanted to show him how much you craved him. You wanted to fall to your knees and suck his cock until he needed to fill your cunt with his come.

He offered you a hand to help you stand. You softly thanked him before buttoning your shirt and straightening your skirt.

As you reached for the doorknob, he said your name. You turned to see his eyes dark as a storm. You wondered if you'd pleased him enough that he'd give you permission before tonight. Your cunt pulsed at the thought.

You asked, "Will I see you later?"

"Sooner or later." He pushed his hand into the trouser pocket which held your underwear. "You've done very well so far."

You shivered at the praise and left his office. You knew you had to stop by the ladies' restroom before sitting at your desk. Your thighs were gummy and pussy practically dripping.

It was difficult to concentrate even after cleaning up. The three-o'clock meeting was torture with note-taking and contributing meaningful ideas. You tried to keep your squirming at the minimum lest you draw attention to yourself. However, all you could think about was Charlie's big hands on your body, his lust-hooded eyes, the feel of his erection against your hip, how in control of you he was. 

After the meeting, you stopped by the restroom again. You met your eyes in the mirror as you washed your hands and decided to go home early. At least your groans and squirming and preoccupation wouldn't have to be repressed there. No one would notice or care if you left, either. Hell, the department head had bolted for her car after closing the meeting.

You packed your bag, hauled it over your shoulder, and headed to the service stairs. The lone elevator took too long on a good day. It seemed like everyone and their brother was in need of it today.

You made it down half a flight of stairs when a door below clunked closed. You looked over the railing to see a familiar dark head of hair one floor down. Your stomach fluttered at the thought of what he could be doing in your building.

Charlie met you on the landing for the fourth floor. He smiled, and you tried to return the smile. You were so on-edge you weren't sure if you'd actually managed it.

"Going home?" he asked.

Your fist clenched around the strap of your bag. "I was planning on it?" You shouldn't reach for him. Not here. "Can't concentrate," you added with a shrug.

His smile broadened, and he stepped closer. You moved back until bumping into the cool concrete-block wall. He hemmed you in with a forearm near your ear. His pink lips were near enough to kiss. You could smell his detergent and deodorant. Heat radiated from his broad body.

You couldn't tell what you wanted anymore. All you knew was desperation. You didn't trust yourself. You craved too much.

"Please, Professor, not here," you whispered. Your longing was apparent even to your own ears.

His free hand settled at your hip and gripped it tight. He pulled your hips to his, and you had to adjust your stance to keep from teetering. He rolled his groin against you.

_"Please,"_ you repeated, but you didn't know what you were asking for.

He drew your skirt up and pushed his hand between your legs. You moaned, thumping the back of your head on the wall. He tucked his other hand behind your head to cushion.

With satisfaction, he said, "You're still wet."

He nipped your ear and kissed the rim as two fingers dipped into your slit. You trembled and didn't know what to do with your hands. His fingers prodded at your opening, getting them wet. He spread your slick and then circled your clit. You gasped. Your knees trembled, and you slapped your hands against the wall to brace.

He nestled his full lips against your neck, mouthing and licking at the skin. He made an encouraging noise and rubbed hard at your clit.

You dug your fingers into the unyielding concrete. Your toes curled in your shoes. Your heart pounded in your ears. Your whole body felt like it would snap like a twig. You didn't know if orgasm would lessen your distress or just kill you. You weren't sure you cared.

"Professor, please."

His chest rumbled with a chuckle. "You've been so good for me. I think it's time for your reward."

He pressed your clit to your pubic bone and massaged it. Your mouth dropped open as you felt that first, far-off pulse of climax. He must've felt it, too, because he said:

"Come."

It suddenly ripped through you like lightning. You hid your face against his bicep, muffling your cries. Sparks burst behind your eyelids. Fire ignited your veins. It went on and on, crashing like a storm in your chest.

Your legs gave out, and Charlie caught you around the waist. He held you tight and shushed you. You clung to him and breathed in his unique scent, finding comfort in it.

"So good," he groaned.

The hand under your skirt smoothed to your ass and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

"My place, nine. I think it's time to tick another hole off the list."

* * *

You rang the buzzer on Charlie's door ten minutes before nine. You hoped being a little early wasn't a problem. Traffic wasn't as bad as it had been previous nights.

Charlie opened the door wearing only a pair of loose pajama bottoms. Somehow, being shirtless made him look bigger. Like the opposite of a wet cat. His arms were thick, chest broad and developed, torso solid. He had the cutest pooch and a thin trail of dark hair starting below his navel.

You tried not to stare even as you thought of nuzzling his stomach and kissing down to his dick.

He stepped back. "Hi, come in."

You quietly cleared your throat. "Hi."

His place was unchanged. Though, now warm light fanned across the carpet from his bedroom. The smell of his dinner—something with tomatoes and herbs—lingered in the air, all cozy and domestic.

The door closed behind you, and he said, "Strip. Leave your things on the chair."

As you kicked off your shoes by the armchair in the corner, he walked between the sofa and coffee table to watch. You dropped your purse next to your shoes and yanked off the rest of your clothes. You had a feeling he liked things tidy, so you draped each item over the arm of the chair.

When you turned to him, finally naked, he crooked a finger at you.

You rushed to him to have him draw you closer with a hand behind your back. He fondled one of your breasts, drawing a circle around the nipple with a thumb. It tightened at his light touch.

"I like you like this," he commented with a grin, then swatted your ass.

The welts had healed, but the heat left by his hand reminded you of them.

You pressed yourself to him, but not for long. He took hold of your hand and led you to his bedroom. Before you could get a closer look at anything, he guided you by the hips to the foot of the neat bed. He nudged your feet apart until you could barely maintain your balance. He then placed a heavy hand between your shoulder blades to bend you forward.

Once you rested on his bed, padded cuffs went around your ankles. You had to assume they looped around the bed-frame legs.

"Hands above your head."

You stretched out and watched him come around the bed to pull two thick straps of nylon webbing from under the pillows. Attached to the strapping were wrist cuffs. He adjusted the leads a little before buckling you in place.

He'd given you enough slack you could move an inch or two to either side. The cuffs were tight enough to restrain you, but not injure. You were just on the edge of strain and completely at his mercy, there for him to use. It was exquisite and thrilling and made you wet.

"You're gonna be like this for awhile," he said as he walked out of view. "Better tell me now if you're uncomfortable."

You tested your shoulders to find them a little too tight and told him as much. He adjusted the wrist leads until you were more comfortable.

"Thank you," you said and rested the side of your face on the soft comforter. It smelled like him.

He smoothed your hair away from your face and kissed your upper arm before disappearing from view again. He stroked your shoulder and the length of your spine, trailing fingers into the cleft of your ass.

He paused there, and you bit your lip.

He hummed with a hint of amusement. "Someone's come very prepared."

With what he'd said to you in the service stairs, you assumed he meant to take your ass. After a light dinner, you'd cleaned yourself thoroughly, lubed up, and pushed a plug into your ass. You'd wanted to please him and be ready for anything.

He tapped on the plug end. Your rim was so sensitive, and that minimal vibration had your legs weak.

He hummed again. "I like that."

Delight bloomed in your chest because you'd done well. He was happy with you.

His hands caressed your ass and back. He rested his hips against you, and the soft bottoms he still wore were nice on your skin.

"You took that belting very well," he said as he trailed his palms down your sides.

You arched your back to rub against his groin. "It was good. I was sore the next day. Are… Are you going to give me another?"

"No belt tonight."

He moved away and then dragged something that felt like leather down your spine. He tapped your lower back with a rigid, thin shaft. You tried to look over your shoulder to see, but to no avail.

"This is a crop." He tapped your ass and the swell of your hip with the stiff leather tongue. "Has anyone ever used one on you?"

"No." You wanted to add 'sir' at the end, but he hadn't asked for that.

"It stings. More than the belt. I'll keep to the meaty parts of you."

You shivered at his promise and wrapped your fingers around the leads. "Anywhere you like." Your voice thickened. "I'm yours. Take me as you want."

He kissed the small of your back. "That's what I like to hear." Then your left buttock. "Along with your moans." Your right. "I expect to hear your pretty voice tonight."

"Yes, sir."

"Just Charlie."

"Yes, Charlie."

He withdrew and went silent. You breathed deep, trying to relax, but the muscles of your ass and thighs kept tensing in anticipation. Some part of you dreaded the pain while another hungrily clawed for it and the place beyond it.

The leather tongue tickled up the back of your leg. It tapped at your pussy and then the anal plug. You drew your bottom lip between your lip as your body responded with a low throb.

The crop whistled through the air and thwacked across the fleshiest part of your ass. The tongue bit in a line of heat, and you shrieked. The pain shivered over your body, making goosebumps rise and your cunt pulse. It was more than the belt, the strike focusing in such a small area.

"Yes?" he asked.

_"Yes!"_

The sting started to fade, but he swung again to renew it. You moaned, because it wasn't any easier to bear. However, he gave you no quarter. The strikes were unpredictable. He spanked every inch of your ass, got the backs of your thighs, until you thought your skin would erupt in flames.

You writhed and succumbed to the instinct to get away. The cuffs held you firmly, though. Sweat broke out across your body, making you stick to the comforter. You sobbed and didn't care if you were a mess of tears and snot.

You didn't hide your weeping as the blows fell. He changed angles to strike the tender flesh of your inner thigh. You brokenly gasped as the pain transmuted to pleasure. Your cunt thrummed with each blow. You burrowed your face in the bed and screamed with every divine sting.

Orgasm was abruptly at the forefront. So close you could taste it. Nothing existed beyond that bright bliss. You strained for it as blood howled in your ears.

"Plea-se!" you choked out. "Please, more!"

There was something dark and possessive about his laugh. Then the leather tongue cracked between your legs, slapped your swollen clit.

You came.

Your eyes rolled back as you convulsed in pain-tinged pleasure. Your cunt clenched like a fist. Your pleas became nothing but vowels. Orgasm quaked and made your every muscle tense. It was too much, and you never wanted it to stop.

The cuffs around your ankles loosened. Hands held your hips and lifted you onto the bed. You tried to help, but it was like your strength had been stolen. You held onto the leads and gasped for breath.

He climbed behind you to straddle your upper thighs. The plug rocked inside you, stimulating your nerves, before being tugged out. You heard it hit the floor. Then slick fingers were deep in your ass, scissoring you further open.

You moaned and pushed back. Every sensation added to the next until pain and pleasure and too-much and desire were one sloppy abstract. You begged for him—whatever he wanted to give to you. You wanted to be claimed. You wanted to be fucked.

His sweat dripped down your shoulder. A hand branded your lower back as he pushed your middle into the mattress.

His voice was rough when he said, "This makes two."

The thick head of his cock prodded your prepared asshole. You whined for it, and he gave it to you. He eased inside, the girth of him stretching you like no plug could.

The fullness pushed a keen from your throat. You didn't know if you were breathing, or even if you could. But he kept going until his balls were against your pussy. The salt of sweat and pressure of his body made your alighted skin sing with pain.

"Oh fuck, honey," he groaned, and you nodded.

Then he began to thrust.

And there was nothing but sensation. Your awareness compressed to the delicious feel of him pounding your ass, the squelching of his powerful thrusts, his balls slapping against you.

And the pain. The pain topped everything like syrup on a sundae. It was just as sweet, just as thick.

You gripped the leads and wordlessly groaned. He'd stripped you first of clothes, then your freedom, and now your words. They were his already, anyway. He could have whatever he wanted.

He thrust faster, getting as deep as he could, and his hands clenched on your hips. He yanked you onto his big cock. All you could do was lie there and take it.

He swore, vicious and heartfelt, and dug his fingers into your hips. The force of it nearly eclipsed the pain from the crop. He fucked you until the bed shook and creaked.

He let go of one hip and wrapped a hand around your throat. He squeezed the veins on either side of your windpipe. It made you tense and arch and choke on your breath. He growled and hauled you back to thrust deep.

You came again, desperately and impossibly. Your ass pulsated in time with your gushing cunt. It kept going as he fucked it out of you. It kept going until he let out a shout, and his cock jerked.

You pushed back, ignoring the new welts, to grind against his still hips. You flexed around his cock to pull every creamy drop from him. He moaned and let his sweaty forehead rest at the crook of your neck. His hold on your throat had loosened, and he now supported your jaw.

He gave your neck a kiss before slipping free and rolling to the side. His warm come oozed down your slit to mingle with your own wetness.

He released your wrists and gently massaged your tendons. You curled to the side and relaxed with your eyes closed. Your skin was hot and sensitive. Your ass felt open, slick, and well used. He'd given you more than any lover ever had.

"Thank you," you softly croaked between sniffles.

"You're welcome," he replied, sounding pleased.

He gripped your chin between thumb and forefinger and tipped your face to his. He kissed you, simply, but deeply.

"Rest. You've been so good—perfect."

You smiled as your heart fluttered. His eyes glinted with such tenderness. You couldn't think of a single person who'd ever looked at you like that. You rubbed the tip of your sweaty nose against his before giving him another kiss. No one had ever made you feel claimed like he did. Somehow, you felt treasured for it.

You lay back and closed your eyes, drifting in the peace of his apartment. He moved around, probably tidying. He left the bedroom and came back with a warm, wet washcloth.

"You're mine," he murmured as he gently cleaned your face. He kissed your temple. "All mine."

Before you knew it, you were clean and Charlie was spooned behind you.

* * *

A rainy Monday always called for a treat. You'd ordered a small pizza margherita from The Pizzeria for lunch. Usually, you'd eat right there in the commons, but you didn't dare lest Charlie find you.

You balanced the warm pizza box in your hand and struggled with the keycard to your office. You cursed the lack of horizontal surfaces in the hall to set the box down.

"Good afternoon," a deep voice purred in your ear.

You startled and nearly dropped the pizza box. It tilted dangerously, and Charlie put a hand under yours to right it.

"Pro-Professor Barber!"

Your throat tightened, and you wondered if he was here to torture you. The thought both thrilled you and filled you with dread. You tried not to shiver, but your pussy fluttered just the same.

"You look particularly hale and hearty today," he said and plucked the keycard from your hand. "Have a good breakfast?"

"Breakfast?"

He opened the door for you and held it back with an arm. "Eggs or whatever."

_Oh God._

Your pussy fluttered again. Yes, you'd had an egg alright.

He winked like an imp. You trembled for a moment. He was definitely here to torture you. Nevertheless, you had to play it cool. You squared your shoulders and walked past him.

"Are you hungry, Professor?" you asked and set the pizza box on the credenza behind your desk.

He chuckled and closed the door behind him. "Not for pizza."

The lock snicked into place.

He stalked across the office and backed you against your desk. You braced yourself as you stared into his eyes. He rested a hand between your breasts.

"I…" You swallowed, transfixed. "I'm afraid all I have is pizza."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."

A padded mailer envelope had been waiting on your chair this morning. You still didn't know how he'd gotten into your office. Inside the envelope was an opened box for an egg vibrator, a set of nipple clamps, a small bottle of lube, and a note which read:

Something to reward a person who has given such pleasing service.

He put his other hand by your hip and bent for a kiss. He kissed you with his whole body. His hips ground into yours—jostling the dormant toy inside you—as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. His hand traced the undercurve of your breast—making you aware of your aching, hot nipples—and you couldn't stop the groan.

"Let me," he whispered against your lips. He moved down to kiss your jaw, then the hollow beneath your ear. "Let me see what else is on the menu."

Your breath caught as your mouth went dry. While his words could be interpreted as a request, his tone said otherwise. You knew he expected to be obeyed and leaned back to let him explore.

His hands trailed down your torso and flicked open your heavier cardigan.

"I can see the outline of your nipples," he commented as his eyes went dark.

With a bite of your lip, you gave a little nod. Low-level arousal had been spiking throughout the morning, especially when your bra brushed your sensitized nipples or you adjusted yourself in your seat. You considered it fortunate you kept a cardigan in your office. You couldn't walk around campus with your nipples poking through your blouse.

He gave your hips a squeeze. The bruises from when he'd fucked you weren't as tender as they had been, but they made themselves known now. There was hunger in his eyes, too, and your body thrummed with want. You had pleased him by wearing what he'd gifted.

He took one of your hands and pressed it to his crotch, where his dick was hot and solid as the toy inside you.

"No one's ever done this for me—to me," he softly said and rolled against your palm. "No one's even come close. You give me everything I want." He groaned. "I think you've bewitched me."

You grinned as your cheeks heated. You'd only taken what he'd given and freely given what he'd demanded.

"I'm glad you're pleased," you replied, using his note's phrasing.

You stroked him through his trousers before taking a gamble and unzipping them. You watched him for any objection, but saw the complete opposite. He slid a hand to your lower back and cradled your face with the other. He nodded once as his thumb grazed your lower lip.

You drew his big cock out and wrapped your fingers around it. You spread the slick precome beading at the tip over the head.

You continued, "I like pleasing you. It makes me feel good."

"You deserve to feel good—" he broke off with a grunt as you stroked his cock and twisted your fist around the base.

He stared at your hand and whispered your name as you brought slicked fingers to your mouth.

You realized then how much power you had over him. Not just because his dick was in your hand, but because he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

You asked, "Are you mine?"

His expression turned vulnerable, his eyes unfathomably dark and glassy.

"I'm yours," he whispered.

You moved forward to catch his lips. He sagged and kissed you hard. His cock slid through the tunnel of your hand. The hand at your lower back roved over your ass.

"You don't realize—" He nipped at your bottom lip. "—your hold on me." He reached between your legs to rub at your pussy through your slacks and underwear. "Jesus, the power you have over me…"

You moaned, and your grip tightened around his cock. "Unzip—touch me."

He matched your moan and undid your slacks with a shaking hand. His fingers slithered between your wet folds and massaged your clit. Your cunt clenched around the toy, and your thighs spread.

"Wait," he gasped. "Wait, wait."

He pulled his hand from your underwear, and you made a distressed sound. He shushed you, mumbling about something in his pocket. You remembered the toy had a remote, which had been missing from the box this morning. It was why you'd been avoiding public places—and him—throughout the morning. The pressure of the toy was distracting enough. You didn't think you'd be able to maintain your composure if it started vibrating.

He slammed the mini remote on your desk and fumbled it on. The toy juddered to life, and you cried out. Somehow, you'd placed it right against your g-spot. No wonder it had been distracting.

_"Fuck,"_ he growled as you quivered in his hold.

You nodded in agreement. "Please!"

His fingers were back on your clit. His teeth sunk into your neck as you writhed. You choked on a groan as pain gilded your growing pleasure.

Only the desk kept you upright, and you leaned hard on him. He kissed you as your hands moved in concert with his. You grabbed his shoulder, holding on while he slapped a hand on the desk. His chest pressed to yours, the nipple clamps caught on the lining of your bra and pulled.

You whimpered into the kiss as climax shimmered like an oasis.

"Come for me, honey, c'mon."

"I— I'm almost—"

"Don't hold back, c'mon."

The toy's programmed vibration changed, and he zig-zagged his fingers over your clit. You closed your unfocused eyes as the dam broke. Orgasm flooded you with a keen ecstasy you weren't sure you could navigate. You rode the waves, though, and clung to him, kept afloat by his presence alone.

Charlie snapped his hips, thrusting into your fist. "Almost," he grunted. "Almo— _God, fuck!"_

His head fell to your shoulder as he quaked. You looked down to see him come in thick pulses to coat your hand and the wedge of your exposed belly in strings of white ejaculate.

You held him tight and kissed the rim of his ear peeking from between the locks of his hair.

* * *

After work, Lizzy caught you in front of the opening elevator.

"Hey, stranger!" she said with a smile and stepped into the empty car. "Missed you at lunch."

"Oh, I had lunch at my desk." You rolled your eyes to hide the half-lie. "Playing catch-up from Friday."

Her eyes darted your neck as she pressed the button for the ground floor.

Charlie's bite.

Your first instinct was to cover it with your hand, but that would make it even more obvious. It was best to not act embarrassed. You were an adult, after all, and you weren't embarrassed. Actually, you liked it. He had left his mark on you like a claim.

She gave an amused hum as the door closed. "I was going to ask if you wanted dinner… _Buuut_ it looks like you might be busy." She waggled her eyebrows a few times. "Maybe with the someone who gave you that?" she led with a broad smile and nodded at your neck. "I know for a fact that wasn't there this morning."

You grinned despite yourself and huffed a laugh. "Yeah, I… I have plans."

As Charlie had helped you clean his come from your hand, he'd invited you over for dinner. Though, _invite_ isn't exactly the correct verb.

He'd said, "Come over for dinner. I'm making Korean rice bowls."

"Well, good," Lizzy said. "You look happy."

"I… I am?"

She tilted her head. "With a note of doubt."

You threw her a glance before staring at the floor indicator. "I've never felt this way."

"But it's good?"

You smiled, thinking of Charlie confessing he was yours. It might be more than good.

"Yes, definitely."

"Then don't sweat it."

The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and the door opened with a ding. The lobby bustled with students and staff. A mid-semester art exhibition was being held in the lobby tomorrow. You and Lizzy dodged around people with easels and tools and carts stacked with folding chairs.

The vibrator still inside your cunt buzzed to life between one step and the next. You gasped and almost tripped over your own feet. Lizzy caught your upper arm, asking if you were okay.

You nodded and squeaked, "I'm good! I'm okay! Must be something…" You quickly looked around the lobby, but there was no sign of Charlie. "—On the floor?"

The buzzing changed to a rhythmic pulse, like it was fucking your g-spot.

You kept your gait steady and your gaze straight ahead. He'd said you deserved to feel good, but this was extreme. You fisted the shoulder strap of your bag as you tried to breathe through the building pleasure.

Just breathe, you thought. _Just breathe._

All you had to do was make it to your car...

* * *

"I should kill you," you said in lieu of a greeting when Charlie opened his apartment door.

His eyebrows shot up his forehead, but he stepped back to let you in.

As you walked into the living room, you continued, "That— _that thing_ vibrated the entire time. I had to pull it out in the middle of the 405 after the third orgasm!"

The door softly closed. His place smelled delicious with the scent of spicy meat and garlic. Your stomach grumbled with interest.

There was mirth in his voice when he asked, "So, you're not wearing it now?"

You dropped your purse on the coffee table and turned to him. Before you could reply, he cradled your face in his hands and kissed you. Putting your hands at his waist, you kissed him back. You'd been wanting his kisses since he left your office after lunch.

"It smells good in here," you said, sounding dreamy.

"Everything's almost ready. How would you like your egg?"

"I'll take it over easy this time."

It was traditional for bibimbap, anyway.

He nodded. "I can do that." He kissed you again before stepping back. "Go get changed for dinner. Everything's in the bathroom."

He disappeared into the kitchen before you could ask. Instead of following him and asking him Twenty Questions, you headed for the bathroom. On the counter was a set of padded leather cuffs with a detachable chain connecting them—and nothing else.

You undressed and buckled on the cuffs. They were heavy, but not too stiff. The chain was long enough you thought you'd be able to eat with no problem.

When you came out, the dining table was set for two and the wine poured. At an empty place setting was a coil of burgundy rope. You pulled out a chair two-handed just as Charlie turned from the kitchen with two bowls of food.

He stopped and looked you over, a smile spreading across his features.

"Beautiful, as always," he said as he came to the table and placed the bowls at the prepared place settings.

Any self-consciousness you'd had vanished. You thanked him and sat. He joined you and lifted his wine glass, toasting to "ardent bonds."

He met your gaze as he added, "And brave women."

You grinned as you tapped your glass against his, feeling yourself practically glow from the praise.

"To finding treasure in the dark," you offered, because you'd taken a chance and found something wonderful with Charlie.

He gave you an impressed look before taking a sip of wine. You drank, too. The wine—a white—had a nice bite, yet was juicy and just sweet enough.

"Did you come up with that?" he asked as he set his glass down.

Trying to keep a straight face, you replied, "No, it's Duran Duran."

He laughed and threw his head back. You've never seen him so happy and blushing. Just like his enthusiasm, it was infectious. You giggled and put down your glass to keep from spilling your wine, swishing back the chain that bound your wrists. As he calmed, he wiped away tears from the corners of his eyes and beamed at you.

After that, dinner was light-hearted and easy. He told you he'd had Henry over the weekend. They'd visited the La Brea Tar Pits and picnicked in the park. He'd asked about your weekend, but you hadn't done anything exciting. You'd grocery-shopped and treated yourself to a 1000-piece puzzle.

"Me and Henry like Legos," he said before eating his last bite. "We're building Hogwarts' Great Hall."

You oh'd, and he shrugged in a shy way that made you think him much younger. You wanted to kiss him—anywhere, everywhere, all over.

You still had a third of your meal to go. And while it was delicious, you weren't interested in it any longer. You drained your glass and stood.

He straightened in his chair. His gaze roved over your body, lingering on your bound wrists. The chains knocked against your thighs with every step. Instead of making you feel powerless, you felt more commanding than ever.

"May I kiss you, Charlie?"

He turned in his seat, gave you one more once-over, and said, "Not yet. Go stand in the middle of the living room."

You didn't bother to hide a small pout before doing what he asked. He cleared the table as you waited. You dug your toes into the carpet as you fiddled with the cuff chain, wondering if he was going to punish you for being demanding.

When he finished, he collected the rope from the table and came to you. He allowed the rope to unfurl, and you saw he had prepared it with a series of simple knots in the middle of the length. He ordered you to widen your stance and then stay still as he knelt in front of you.

"Yes, Charlie."

He kissed your belly and bent your elbows for you, bringing the chain near your waist. He looped the rope around your middle and secured the chain as he did. From there, he adjusted the rope, knotted it at your lower back, and pulled the ends between your legs.

The knots already in the rope made sense when they nestled against your clit. You hoped he wouldn't mind if you got them all sticky, because you were getting wet.

He worked, securing the rope around your hips and weaving the ends through. Midway, he checked in with you to make sure the rope wasn't too tight. It felt nice, actually, and you told him such. You felt secure and swathed in his affection.

He fastened the last few feet of rope around your thighs and tucked the tails behind the last knots. His hands went to your hips and urged you to face him. Each movement had the knots sliding against your clit. You cunt thrummed with the tease.

The heated look in his eyes indicated he knew what it was doing to you.

"Kneel," he said.

You got on your knees, cunt clenching the whole way. If you kept moving, you were going to come in short order. He helped steady you with hands under your elbows. He rubbed warmth into your upper arms.

He asked, "Good?"

You nodded with a grin. It _was_ good. Different, but good.

"That's my girl."

He bopped your nose with a finger and stood. You smiled, but it quickly disappeared when he yanked his shirt over his head. His skin was creamy and smooth in the early evening light. Those beauty marks adorning his handsome face continued across his broad chest. You wanted to kiss your way across his body, making constellations of your own.

He unzipped his trousers and pulled them, along with his briefs, down just enough to expose his growing erection. He framed it in his hands and ran fingers over his balls.

"You can kiss me now."

You knee-walked closer and nuzzled right at the base of his cock. You licked over his balls and sucked one ovoid into your mouth. His musk and sweat filled your mouth. Above, he sighed your name as his cock pulsed against your cheek.

His hands went to your hair, fisting what he could. His hold steadied and centered you. You reveled in the slight pain of his pulling your hair.

He breathed, "Suck on the other one, honey."

You did, letting the first go with a pop. He moaned as his hips twitched forward. You moaned in reply and swirled your tongue around the new weight in your mouth.

"So sweet," he crooned. "Open your mouth."

You teetered back, the knots rubbing your clit, and groaned. He steadied his cock with one hand while cupping the back of your head with the other. You opened your mouth to let your tongue rest on your bottom lip. He bent his knees and slapped your tongue with the underside of his cockhead.

"God, that tongue."

You flicked your tongue against his frenulum. His chest heaved, and he pushed his cock into your waiting mouth. The only things that kept you upright was his hand at the back of your head and his hard dick in your mouth.

He took you like that, controlling the sway of your body. And each sway rubbed your clit against the knots. You clenched your thighs and moaned because you were close to coming.

He fucked your mouth and forced you down to his fist at the base. He praised you as he used you, calling you pretty, calling you honey, calling you _his._

Drool rolled down your chin, and you sucked hard at his length. You wanted to swallow all his pleasure. He groaned as his cock jerked in your mouth. You looked up at him to see the color in his cheeks deepening. Silently, you urged him on, tilting your head and arching your back.

He curled over you and thrust into your mouth—once, twice. The head of his cock nudged the back of your palate. The knots jammed into your clit, and your cunt throbbed. On the third deep push, he came with a guttural moan. You grabbed his trouser-legs and swallowed the first thick spurt of come.

Your hips rolled forward with each swallow. Just a few more rolls, and you'd come, too. As if he knew, he growled for you to _quit moving._ You groaned around his softening cock.

"No," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

You closed your eyes as a shiver went down your spine.

"There's my good girl."

He eased his dick out of your tender mouth and bent to kiss you. He held your throat and angled your head to him. His lips were bite-swollen, red, and slick with spit. He kissed your lips, sucked at your tongue. As he broke the kiss, he wiped the saliva from your chin.

You tried to reach for him, but the cuffs hindered your hands.

"Such a good girl. So pleased with you."

His deep voice, his kind words, nearly made you come with how worked up you were. But you couldn't, you told yourself. He hadn't given you permission.

He pulled away, tucking his cock into his underwear. He backed to the armchair in the corner and sat to take off his shoes, socks, and trousers.

You watched him with confusion. You thought he'd take you to his bedroom. Maybe for another spanking. The welts from the crop had healed, so you knew your body could take it.

He folded his trousers and lay them over the chair's arm. He turned to you, relaxed with knees spread, and waved you forward.

"Come here."

You took two steps on your knees and had to pause. The knots pressed on your clit were too much. You thought maybe being on your hands and knees would be easier, but the chain wasn't long enough.

"Take your time."

You glared at your thighs and dug your teeth into your bottom lip. If he wanted you close, you would get close. You put one knee in front of the other and made your way to him, swallowing your whines the entire time.

Once you were between his knees, he kissed you. His thumbs stroked your cheekbones. You wanted to touch him so badly, but without permission, you braced yourself on the seat cushion.

"Very proud of you," he said and brought your hands to his knees.

You wondered if hearing that from him would ever get old.

He unhooked the chain from the cuffs and ran a finger under them to make sure you hadn't been chafed.

"You never told me how you masturbate," he mildly said. "I'd like to know."

He grasped the rope at your hips and tugged you against the chair front. You yelped and twitched when the movement pushed the knots against your clit. You rested your hands on his thighs, opening your mouth to answer.

"Show me," he murmured as his palms slipped up your sides.

"Like—" You yelped again as he tweaked your nipples. "Right here?"

He hummed before biting your shoulder. You tensed as his teeth marked your skin.

"Can't… Can't see from that position."

"Good point." He fondled your breasts for a second. "Move back by the coffee table and show me."

He clapped his hands on your hips. The ropes mostly shielded your skin, but the impact made your flesh jiggle. Which made the ropes jiggle, and the knots against your clit vibrate.

However, you could handle that. Because Charlie wanted to see you come. He'd given you permission to come.

You scooted backwards until you were beside the coffee table. The loose chain bounced against your belly. His eyes stayed on you as if you'd disappear if they didn't. You settled on your spread thighs and trailed your hands up your body, feeling in control at the moment. You plucked at the ropes that hugged your hips. You cupped your breasts and held them up in an offer to him.

He murmured his approval and relaxed into the armchair like a king.

You rolled your nipples, pinching and tugging at them until they were stiff. You licked your fingertips and rubbed the moisture around your nipples. The cooling sensation of evaporation sent goosebumps down your arms.

His hips flexed, and you swore his cock twitched in his briefs.

"Do you wish those were my hands?" he asked.

"Yes, Charlie." You caressed your breasts and stomach. "I wish you'd finger me."

"Gotta show me what you like first, honey."

You shifted the central ropes that lay in your folds and pushed a finger into your cunt. You met his eyes as you drew it out, now wet and hot, and stuck it in your mouth. You sucked your juices off your finger.

"Do you like the way you taste?"

"Yes, Charlie."

"Then do that again."

You repeated the motion and licked your finger clean. You then leaned on the frame of the coffee table and slipped your finger into your cunt again. You added a second and pushed both deep until you pressed the knots against your clit. You moaned and ground the knots harder using the heel of your hand. You rocked against your hand as shivers of excitement shot up your spine.

"Don't stop," he murmured. "Don't stop. Show me."

The order thrilled you. You pumped your fingers into your cunt, curling your fingertips to glance off your g-spot. You fucked yourself for him, rutting against your fingers and rubbing your clit. Your cunt pulsed, and you moved faster as you strained for orgasm.

It was _so close._ You were so close—nearly there.

He barked, "Stop. Hands to the side."

You shrieked in protest and clapped your hands on your outer thighs. Your thighs shook under you. You'd been seconds away. You'd only needed a few more strokes. But then he'd denied you. Your eyes watered with frustration.

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your temple. You collapsed against his chest and breathed in his scent. You focused on him, on the feel of his skin and warmth. You breathed deep and concentrated on controlling your body. Because he'd told you to stop.

He wanted you to wait. You could. You would.

You hiccuped out a soft sob and rubbed your cheek against him.

"Very good," he said as he petted you. "Doing so well, honey. So patient."

The warmth from his voice infused you. You relaxed and swallowed the tightness in your throat. He helped straighten you on your knees. The movement forced the ropes into your skin, forced the knots to rub against your clit. Hot tears dribbled down your cheeks as you struggled against its effects.

He rubbed slowly at the growing bulge in his briefs. "You're beautiful when you're trying so hard to please me."

He rose onto his knees and kissed you. The brush of his lips sent a frisson directly to your pussy. You shivered when he scraped his teeth over your lip. He rested his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes.

"So beautiful." He sat back, leaving you without any contact. "So patient."

He was silent for a moment, and you wanted to reach for him.

But then he smiled with a minute nod. "Come."

Your hips rocked in need, the knots slid tightly over your clit, and you obeyed. You shuddered as orgasm roiled through you. It was like he pulled it from the depths for you. Like a gift, like a touch, like a claim. It licked up your body until it emerged from your mouth in a long, high moan.

Your thighs lost their last bit of strength, but he caught you as you toppled. You keened as the ropes abraded your body. You sobbed a _"please"_ and flung your arms around his neck.

"Please, Charlie, no more." You sniffled into his neck. "It's too much."

He shushed you as he put an arm under your knees and hoisted you off the floor. He stood and carried you to his bedroom. Each step jarred the knots between your legs, and you whimpered.

He kissed your temple. "You're doing so well. So beautiful like this." He set you on your feet by the bed. "I think you can take more, though. I want you to—for me."

You trembled, but he steadied you with hands on your waist. You clung to his shoulders and met his gaze. His eyes were dark, dark for you, and you wanted to please him. You gnawed on your lip and laid your head on his chest.

"Yes," you whispered. "For you."

He made a soft sound deep in his chest and slid his hands to your breasts. He pinched your nipples into hard peaks. You screwed your eyes shut and choked as his grip tightened. He pinched and pinched until you were dancing in place. The knots moved with you, and your spine bowed.

You let your head flop back and gripped his arms. Yet Charlie held firm. Your nails bit into his biceps as you arched into the pain. The knots rolled on your clit. There was nothing but two searing points of pain in your breasts and the barest glimmer of pleasure between your legs.

It was too much.

He thrust his hips forward to grind against your mound. You gritted your teeth to keep from yelling your safeword. The ropes shifted, the knot rubbed.

_It was too much._

You spasmed and came with a shout. The edges of your vision hazed. Your cunt throbbed and flooded, soaking your thighs. He caught you and held you to his chest as you quaked. He kissed any skin he could reach: your temple, your ear, your eyebrow and cheek.

"Holy shit—gorgeous—so proud, honey," he fiercely whispered into your hair.

You hadn't realized your chest had been racked with sobs until they began to die. His praise eased the pain, and you smiled, though your lips quivered with the effort. You'd pleased him.

You hugged him, and between sniffles, you croaked, "Rest?"

He kissed a track of your tears. "Almost."

He stroked your back, his touch calming you. You breathed in a stuttered breath and leaned on him. His cock was hard between your bodies. He wanted you. What you'd done had turned him on. He wanted you and gave you strength. Your resolve solidified as you felt an answering need in your blood. You wanted him, too.

You raised yourself on tip-toe to kiss his prickled jaw. "More," you whispered. "For you. But please, please—the rope. I can't… It's—" You didn't know how to explain. Your words had left you, but you knew if those knots remained on your aching clit, you'd safeword out.

You didn't want to say it and silently pleaded with him.

"Okay, honey." He kissed you, lips soft on yours. "You've been so good for me."

He made sure you were steady before stepping around you and kneeling. His hands made quick work of loosening the rope. The knots drooped away from your clit, and you sobbed in relief.

He let the rope, and short chain tangled with it, fall to the carpet by your feet. He kissed one cheek of your ass as he ran delicate fingertips over the indents from the rope on your hips.

You reached back to touch his hair, and he kissed the inside of your wrist above the cuff.

"Thank you," you whispered.

He straightened and put his arms around your waist. You turned to face him, heart pounding, and slipped one hand around his nape to pull him lower. You kissed the corner of his mouth and licked his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

With his eyes shining with mischief in the golden hour, he cupped your ass and walked you the few steps to the bed.

He warmly said, "Get in the middle of the bed. Hands above your head."

You crawled onto the bed as he stripped off his briefs. You stretched out and watched him prowl next to you. His cock hung heavy and red between his thighs. He maneuvered the straps he'd used the previous night from between the wall and mattress. He pulled your hands up and fastened your wrists in place.

He straddled your body and kissed a line down your chest. He left soft kisses on your breasts, avoiding your abused nipples. You pressed into his touch with a whine, thankful for his mercy yet hungry for his touch.

He chuckled and kept going, his hair tickling your stomach. He kissed the vulnerable spanse around your navel, then the tops of your thighs.

"Spread your legs."

He jockeyed his knees between yours and settled on the bed. You planted your feet on the bed to angle your pelvis to him, unashamed of how wet you were. He purred and mouthed at the smooth skin of your inner thighs.

"Only one thing missing," he said.

Before you could look down your torso at him, he nipped at your inner thigh. You hissed and pushed against his mouth. He latched on, sucking at your skin and using his teeth. It hurt deliciously, and your cunt clenched.

You bucked as it went on—to get more or get away, you weren't sure anymore. He pinned your knees to the bed with a growl. You squirmed and scrambled to hold onto something to ground yourself.

He released your flesh and surged forward to lick up your sopping slit. You moaned as you tried to push down against his face. He found your clit and sucked hard on it.

Your vision whited-out as you came again. You shouted until your throat felt raw. Charlie secured your lower half to the bed as every muscle in your body seized. The cuffs scoured the skin of your wrists. Through it all, his lush lips and silky tongue kept moving and working your pussy. Your climax burned through you, flaring hotter with every lick.

You begged for mercy, begged for him, as orgasm kept going. You felt engulfed by heat. He held you down, controlling you along with the restraints. You burned and burned, unable to breathe through the pleasure. The blaze ate at you from the inside out until there was nothing but blackness.

When you opened your eyes again, the room was darker and you realized you'd moved onto your side. Your arms were free, the cuffs gone. You were clean. There was a wall of soothing warmth against your back and a comforting weight around your middle. You twisted to glance over your shoulder.

Charlie smiled. "Hi."

"Hi."

He kissed your cheek, and you turned over to cuddle against his chest.

"How're you feeling?"

The question rumbled in your ear.

You answered, "Better."

"Yeah?"

You nodded your head and put an arm around his chest. He kneaded the nape of your neck, making you sigh with contentment.

"Good," he whispered. "Good. You've been incredible, you know. Taken everything and asked for more." He smoothed the baby-hairs away from your temple. "I never thought…"

You smiled and rested your chin on his chest. His eyes were red-rimmed. Yours started to tear up in sympathy. Because you understood: he never thought this was possible. And you hadn't known barging into his office would lead to something so…

_"Special._ This is special."

He nodded and gave you a watery grin. You edged closer and threw a leg over his hip. His bare cock twitched against your thigh.

"But you lied, Charlie Barber," you said and kissed the base of his throat. "You said you'd use me for your own pleasure."

"Are you saying I haven't managed that?" His arms went around you, pulling you tight to him. "Let me tell you, I have enjoyed myself."

"Oh, I can tell you have!" He'd come on you or in you too many times to discount that. "But you've spent more time doing things _to me_ than for yourself."

"You're making an assumption—" He took hold of your thigh and rolled you onto your back. "—that wasn't pleasing to me." He settled between your legs, pressing you into the mattress, and kissed your shoulder. "You've obeyed and begged. Gave me control." He rolled his hips, his hardening erection nestled at the crease of your thigh. "And you thanked me for it."

You pushed your fingers into his hair to hold the back of his head and urged him up to kiss you.

He hovered on his elbows, staring into your eyes. "You come and scream for me, and that's what pleases me."

You pulled him down for a kiss, and he didn't fight you. He kissed you, teasing your tongue with his own and tasting your lips. He kissed your chin, your jaw, your neck. He kissed your breasts and drew a nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it and scraped the sensitive tip with his teeth.

You mewled at the sharp pleasure and arched for more. He moved to your other breast and held the sides of your ribcage. You spread your thighs wide and rocked up against his body. While you were sore, you yearned for more. The way he held you and kissed you and enjoyed your body made you wet.

You pulled him up for another kiss. "Give me everything."

He nipped at your bottom lip and reached between your bodies to stroke your clit. You licked into his mouth when he eased two fingers inside your cunt. You whimpered, because it wasn't enough, and groped for his cock. It grew thicker and more solid in your hands as you stroked.

He groaned and rocked with your strokes for a moment before tugging your hands away. He braced himself on the bed, forced your thighs wide, and took himself in hand. The spongy head of his cock rubbed on your clit in a tease to you both. You bit your lip as it slid lower and pushed into your slick cunt.

You braced yourself with a hand against the wall and keened as he sank into you, inch by inch. His dick stretched you, filling you like nothing else. He didn't stop until his pelvis was snug against yours.

After a few breaths, he flexed his hips so slowly, you could feel the flared ridge of his cockhead rubbing along every nerve in your cunt.

He lowered himself onto his elbows again and touched his forehead to yours. "I think I lied about something."

"Yeah?" you whispered and combed a lock of hair behind his ear.

"I said I wouldn't make love to you."

He caught your mouth before you could reply and kissed you, languid and tender. You cradled his face and kissed him back, groaning deep in your chest. He snagged one of your hands, pinned it to the bed, and laced his fingers with yours.

"Mine," he murmured and thrust deep into you.

He kissed your throat as he set a slow pace. You moved counter to him, and that spurred him on. Each thrust pushed you further into pleasure. He buried his face in your neck and mouthed at your skin.

He hissed, "Say you're mine."

You nodded and whispered, "Yours."

And you were, you'd give him anything he wanted. He gave you more than you dared to dream. He kissed your shoulder in gratitude and dug his knees into the bed. He worked his cock in your body, driving you closer and closer to orgasm.

You wrapped your legs around him and shut your eyes. The motion tightened your cunt around him. He moaned with a shiver, released your hand, and pushed his fingers between your legs. You latched onto his shoulder as he touched your clit, digging your nails into his skin. It was like being touched by electricity.

He gasped and drove hard into you. "C'mon, baby," he panted. "Come on me."

His cock pistoned inside you as he rubbed at your clit, and you bucked. Your body locked up for a second before you came just like he wanted. Orgasm throbbed, rushing through you like an ocean wave. It stole your strength and voice, and you didn't mind.

He grunted and fucked you faster, hips picking up speed. He shuddered and burrowed into your neck. His thrusts went erratic.

"Give it to me," you whispered.

_"Fuck,"_ he groaned and then brokenly moaned your name.

He rammed deep and stiffened. Then he flooded you, each hot spurt hitting your cervix. He shook as his hips seemed to jerk of their own accord.

You hugged him with arms and legs. You didn't mind when he practically collapsed on you. His weight was welcomed and reassuring.

You smoothed fingers over his sweaty shoulder and kissed his damp cheekbone. "Mine."

* * *

You smiled at your reflection as you touched the delicate chain Charlie had fastened around your neck. The chain was beautifully made. As was the petite heart-shaped padlock charm with key that now rested at the center of your chest. It felt right, and you never wanted to take it off.

From behind you, he kissed your shoulder, hands on your hips, and met your eyes in the mirror. "A little something for the person who's given me everything."

You trailed fingertips to the charm. "Are you saying I've unlocked your heart?"

He nodded, sincere.

You said, "Good, that pleases me."

"That sounds like my line."

You turned and tugged him down for a long kiss. "No," you said and slid a hand over his naked chest. "Mine."

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com/)


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